Golden Eyes, A Promise
by CrazyChibiSama
Summary: I ain't dead yet! I finally got around to posting Sion's backstory, rated T to be safe. Sounds a little weird, but I can answer questions anytime.


Golden Eyes, A Promise

Okay, This is Sion's back story. Yadda yadda yadda, I do not own Left 4 Dead and all that crap...Gosh, this is getting annoying.

Sorry if this is a little on the weird side, I was trying to play this out in my mind and this is how it came out.

To those of you reading my main story, I apologize for not updating the chapter yet but I'm having some MAJOR rewriting issues and I'm almost done except for a few touches here and there. Strangely enough, I didn't think adding in a human character would be that difficult. Silly me. I said that I would post Sion's story after an event happened and the event was Chad's first appearance.

–

The rain fell heavily on the roof as the Smoker rose from his sleeping position and rubbed at his eyes. His throat had finally stopped burning from the previous few nights and he was ready to hunt. Clearing the fog from his mind, he walked across the roof, scanning the ground below for prey. His eyes focused on a movement so slight that the average eye would miss and shot his powerful tongue at it, intending to catch it and feast. He was sorely disappointed when his tongue came back covered in Boomer bile. Groaning in disgust, he wiped his tongue clean on a cloth hanging from the roof nearby and left before a horde could get up there and cause problems.

Climbing down the stairs from the roof , he ignored the infected littered about and found the room he had personalized for himself. Multiple pillows were scattered about the room and on the bed as he sat on the floor and looked around. Rolling onto his stomach, he jumped onto the bed in fright as the television roared to life, droning out the weather. When he had rolled over, he had rolled onto the television remote and turned it on. As the television continued to give the latest updates on the weather, a few infected roamed into the room and left after finding nothing except the far from edible television. Outside, the Smoker breathed a sigh of relief while clinging to the windowsill. When he had turned on the television by accident and heard the moaning of the nearby infected, he had opened the window and climbed out, hanging on the windowsill until the moans had stopped.

Stepping onto the floor cautiously, he approached the television and sat on the bed, watching. The television was showing a late night special on the infection and several people were on the television, describing their survivor stories of having to battle numerous infected to escape. As each of the survivors told their story, he studied the set, examining their features. Several males, a few females, even a few children. He sat watching the television for a few hours, occasionally mimicking the movements of the people's mouths, before getting up to try and find something to fill his empty stomach. He left the room and partially closed the door before stalking the hallways in search of prey.

Finding nothing, he growled in disgust and decided to search the streets again, thinking he'd have better luck out there. Exiting the hallway, he climbed down the stairs and left through the open doors out into the street. Staring up at the sky, he turned his attention back to the street and searched for any kind of food. He quickly became aware that he was in Hunter territory after hearing several growls that had the intent of doing him bodily harm. He wasn't sure how many Hunters were actually in the area, but he knew any more than two would spell his death. Backing up slowly, he left the alleyways he was currently wandering and scurried back to the main street where the common infected were still roaming about. The closer he got to the main street, the less he heard the growls. By the time he reached one of the vehicles, the growls had stopped.

Covering his face with his hand, he listened quietly to the growling of his stomach before looking down the street He could see all the way to one of those 'safe houses' that the survivors like to use, and he could see all of the common infected that wandered around like they had nowhere to be. One thing that did surprise him though, was a strange looking infected. He was used to seeing the powerful Tank, the repulsive Boomer, the depressed Witch, the aggressive Hunter, and others like himself, but this was a new sight. Standing taller than he did, this infected was hunched over and walking around like a feral beast on two legs.

What was amazing though, wasn't the infected's stature or stance, but it's body. A thick mane of quills covered this infected's head, face, arms, and partially extended down to the back. As it shifted about, the quills bristled in the air, twitching with the wind. The Smoker stared at it, not quite sure what to make of the sight, before starting to back away slowly. Something inside him, maybe his instincts for survival, told him to avoid approaching that infected at all costs. He soon saw why, a single common infected got too close to the strange infected and was promptly shot down. The quills on the strange infected's arms had been launched like throwing knives into the common infected and new ones were starting to replace the areas that had been left bare.

The Smoker was unsure of the range of the quills, but he decided not to test that and returned to the building that he had called home for some time. Sitting on the bed, he ignored his stomach and turned the television on again by pushing buttons until he figured out which one was the on switch. Once again, the news was giving a hourly update on the infection and was showing a local story of a arriving military vehicle which was heavily armored. The camera zoomed in as six men, fully armed, loaded a cage with a screeching Witch inside onto a vehicle and drove off as one of the men spoke with the reporter on their catch. They had refined the cage to withstand armor piercing bullets so it could withstand the angry witch and keep her from escaping. As he watched, The Smoker couldn't help but feel sorry for the Witch, she probably didn't do anything to deserve being caged up like that. He couldn't imagine being stuck in a cage like that, he would probably have gone insane.

His stomach churned so much at the thought of being trapped in such a small space, he fumbled around with the remote to change the channel just as a recording of the doctor in charge of the operation showed her face on the screen. The channel changed to a detective drama and he stared at it for a good minute before settling down and watching. He was barely able to comprehend some of the situation that the episode concerned, but most of the scientific terms escaped him. As far as he could tell, the one guy was trying to find a girl before the other guy did and get her to a place where another man could look at her injuries. He watched the episode closely, yelping in fright when the other guy pulled a weapon on the main guy and gasping in horror when the two men got into a fist fight before his stomach growled at him again. He had been so involved with the show that he had forgotten about the need to eat.

Sighing, he waited until the show was over before checking outside the window to see if that strange infected was still roaming about before going out onto the streets again. When he was out there, he noticed that a large Hunter was tearing apart a building and chowing down on the things he found inside. Watching him for a bit until the Hunter had left, the Smoker entered the building through the destroyed window and looked around at the remains before snacking on a few that the Hunter had left alone. Enjoying some of the meaty cans, he also tried a few of the packed goods as well, discovering a few juices and other goods as well.

Feeling satisfied with himself, he started to head back to his room when he heard lots of shouting and gunfire. Immediately ducking to avoid damage, he felt stupid when he realized that the gunfire was nowhere near him. Being careful to not actually be seen by anyone, infected or otherwise, he headed outside to where he had heard the noise. Two men and a woman were running through the streets at a fast pace, aiming their weapons at anything that moved as they ran. His previous meal completely forgotten, he lashed out his tongue at the group and yelped in pain when the younger of the two men spotted his tongue and stomped on it.

He continued to yelp in pain and tried to pull his tongue back but the man refused to move his foot. The woman started to shout at the man, "Grab it and pull the Smoker here! We don't have a Smoker specimen yet, this is the perfect chance! Hurry up, you lazy soldier!" before the man grunted in disgust and lifted his foot off the Smoker's tongue. The Smoker immediately grabbed the opportunity and drew back his tongue as the man started to yell at the woman. "Are you crazy?!" he shouted. "We came to investigate the city, search for survivors, and document all the different types of infected! We've investigated the city, documented the infected types and nearly got killed by them I might add, and we've lost one of the group! There may be survivors still in the city, but our survival happens to be my top priority right now!"

"I tell you, when my superior officer told me to escort you scientists through the city to study infected, I seriously though about receiving a court martial for what I wanted to do to him." The other older man chuckled after the younger man's outburst. "Can't be helped, he is a bit of a greenhorn at this. Doesn't help that we lost one of the scientists to that Tank back there though. Damn things move faster than I thought. We just gotta get to the pick up point and get out of here while we still can."

"It can't be helped that you two are utterly incompetent in your protection." stated the woman, matter-of-factly. "The mere fact that neither off you were sufficient enough to protect the other scientist proves that the two of you weren't properly trained and need to go back for retraining." The younger man growled in frustration as the older man pointed an accusing finger at the woman. "Look, it's not our fault that the Tank overwhelmed her; we had our hands full with getting that Hunter off of you!" snapped the older man. "If you're going to bitch about the quality of our help, you can go about your studies of the infected out here on your own! We may have orders to keep you safe, but I'll take a dishonorable discharge from the military over you any day!"

The woman, having lost ground in the argument, turned on her heel and continued walking the way that they were headed, clearly angry at her companions. The men turned as well and walked at a slow pace behind the woman as the Smoker lost interest and headed away from the area, not eager to try for another attack and get killed. A few hours later, he was at it again, blindly attacking the group from a window that couldn't be seen by the group. The group had decreased in size by one, the older man was no longer with them and the two were hard pressed for defense from the relentless horde. A perfect chance in his eyes.

If only his perfect chance didn't involve the window ledge...

Trying to get a better shot at the struggling group, he stepped cautiously onto the window ledge for a wider range. The ledge in question was very damaged from gunfire and the weight of the Smoker did nothing but make it strain under the weight and snap, sending the Smoker to the streets below. He also had the even greater misfortune of landing on one of the burning trash cans, the fire searing his arm and invoking a scream of pain on his part. He beat out the flames on his arm and whimpered as he held the scorched area tightly, trying to ease the pain. His teeth clenched as he tightened his grip until he heard a voice in front of him.

"Hey! Are you all right?" asked the younger man, looking at him.

Fear immediately gripped his body as he sat there on the side of the burning trash can with his burned arm. The younger man would surely see that he was one of the infected and kill him, but no final shot came. The younger man knelt next to him and examined his arm. "Did you burn yourself on that trash can?" he asked. Realizing that the man couldn't see his tongue at the moment, he continued to hold his arm and gave a harsh reply as he drew his arm away. "Yes!" Seconds later, he realized that he had responded with a very gruff hiss, but to the younger man, it was a reply. The younger man grabbed his arm from him and began to examine the extent of the burn while yammering away happily, ecstatic that he had found a survivor in the infected city. "How long have you been in the city? Do you have any teammates or are they all gone? What's your name?" When it came to the man's eager questions, only simple sounds came to his throat. "Ahh...Uhh...Graa..." Before the man could hammer him with more questions, the woman spoke, her very voice making the Smoker want to kill her on the spot, regardless of the consequences.

"Will you hurry up and treat his burn so we can leave him? Your mission is to see to my safety, not to the safety of every dim witted asylum reject we find. Your current job is to get me to the hospital so that we can escape, understand? I don't have time for you to help every little lost cause along the way, the sooner I get back to the lab, the better; I need to study the samples that the ICU (Infected Capture Unit) obtained." she announced, her voice wearing down the patience of every thinking individual in the area, human or infected. The man turned back to the Smoker, his eyes full of irritation before talking to him quietly, out of the hearing range of the woman. "Yo, My name's Sion. The bitch over there is our remaining scientist, Dr. Bianca. Don't worry, regardless of what she says, I won't just dump you here. I'll see to it that you reach the survivor encampment." He finished treating the burn and helped the Smoker to his feet.

The Smoker was in a state of confusion. Why was this person who was earlier thought of only as prey helping him? It didn't make much sense to him. Anyone else would have shot at him and kill him on the spot and simply cry of regret for using a bullet on him. "Why?" he asked, mimicking the words he had heard on the television set. Sion clapped his hands together and refused to answer him. Grabbing onto the Smoker's arm, he dragged the Smoker along as Dr. Bianca stormed ahead, frustrated at Sion. The Smoker decided that it would be a better idea to just go along with them until he could purposely get lost from them instead of attack and get killed. He would just have to deal with this eager man and the woman for the moment until he could get away.

His opportunity came an hour later when Dr. Bianca shot an alarmed vehicle while trying to kill a normal infected. He knew that in the sudden rush of the horde, he could make an escape and the two would think that the horde had killed him and move on.

He hadn't counted on the Tank.

As the horde charged them, the monstrous Tank made the ground beneath them quiver as he ran straight for them, his loud bellows voicing his unreasonable anger at his vulnerable target. The Smoker stiffened out of fear; a Tank was not one to be taken lightly on anyone's part, not even his. He knew he wasn't a target. One of the two humans was, but he knew that staying there meant he could possibly be killed as a irritating obstacle on the Tank's path of destruction. Before he could escape though, Sion grabbed his arm and almost pulled him off his feet while running. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as Sion dragged him along, trying to outrun the Tank. As he ran, he saw various infected, even a group of small Hunters attacking the large one that he had seen in the building a few days back. Sion dragged him inside the building and yelled in horror as a Boomer inside the building vomited on him, covering his military uniform.

The woman was nowhere to be seen as Sion forcibly opened a door and shoved the Smoker through it, slamming the door behind him. "The hospital hasn't been infected yet, if you can get in there, a helicopter will take you out of here, Hurry up! Go now- Agh!" Sion screamed as the Tank entered the building, followed by the horde that was attracted by the bile on his clothes.

The Smoker covered his ears and crouched down behind the door as the sounds of gunfire eventually faded away. Checking to see that the danger had passed, he opened the door carefully and walked in. The now dead Tank lay on the ground as well as several common infected as Sion lay against the nearby wall. Approaching him, he sensed that Sion maybe had only a few more minutes to live, the extent of his injuries were too much. Silently, he knelt next to him, his mind full of questions, but his voice only capable of saying a single word. "Why?"

Sion wearily raised his head from its position on his chest. "Can't a soldier die in peace? A better question would be why did you come back? I told you to get to the Hospital." The Smoker cocked his head to the side and looked at the blood running down Sion's arm and pooling on the ground. Several other injuries, including one to the stomach that would be the fatal wound, oozed blood as the Smoker let his tongue hang, there was no point in hiding it from a man at the shores of death. Sion's eyes widened slightly before he choked out a response. " I knew it when we met, I just didn't know which infected type you were."

Now it was the Smoker's turn to widen his eyes in surprise. Sion chuckled, blood flowing out of his mouth as he spoke. "Think about it. A person at the edge of the street with no gun and no ability to speak? If the doctor had been paying more attention instead of thinking about her work, she'd have noticed as well. You didn't attack, so I thought I'd take you along for the hell of it." He stopped to cough again before talking again, his voice becoming fainter and slower. "Go on. Do what you want now, the horde's gone and the Tank's dead. You can go to wherever you call home." The Smoker looked at him with confusion. "Why?" he repeated. Sion smiled at him. "You hid from danger, but you came back to check on me. Something in there's still human." his voice faltered before he whispered something for the Smoker to hear before tilting his head back and breathing his last.

The Smoker stared at Sion's body for a long time before gently taking the man's coat off, thinking he'd lay it across the body as a tribute. When he raised the coat over his head, a picture fell out and fluttered to the ground, gently landing next to his feet. Picking up the picture, he turned it over to find Sion and another man both dressed in military garb posing while saluting. The other man had brown hair just like Sion had except neater and the two men looked very similar to each other. Guessing that they were related in some way, he turned the picture over and found a note. After having sat in front of the television for so long, it was a cinch for him to read the note.

_To my lazy ass brother;_

_I don't get it, how did you get accepted into the military before I did?! Ahh, well. I'll finish the rest of my training and then join you on the base. Mom says to call in the meantime, and she says you'd better have clean underwear on the next time she sees you. Take care of yourself and don't let those above you keep you in a bad mood._

_Your brother who's sure that the papers got mixed up, Chad._

The Smoker stood there for several minutes as he read and re-read the note. Sion had a family, a future, and now nothing. Looking around, he quickly counted the infected lying about and came to a horrifying conclusion.

Sion would have lived through the fight if he had an extra person, any person, to watch his back.

Someone like him.

His chest tightened as he held the picture in his hands. Sion had treated his injury and tried to protect him like he was another survivor, and he had run away like a huge coward when he could have made a difference. He felt as if he had dealt the killing blow to Sion instead of the Tank. Taking another look at the photo, he gently tucked it back into the pocket that it fell from and put the coat on. It fit nicely on him, but he wasn't doing this to admire it. Reaching down, he gently pulled the military dog tags, which he assumed was of some importance, from Sion's neck and wrapped the chain around his wrist firmly before securing it.

He had made up his mind. He decided that, one way or another, he would get to the 'Survivor encampment' that Sion spoke of and take the coat and tags to Chad as some kind of apology for not helping Sion when it could have mattered. He knew he really didn't have to feel regret for not helping Sion, that it was just his survival instincts kicking in, but he felt that he at least owed him for treating the burn. Gently laying a cloth onto Sion's body, he departed the building and stared at the Hospital that was in the distance. It would be suicide for him to go there, he'd have to find another way to get to the encampment.

After heading back to the building he called home and discovering that he looked completely human in a mirror, he decided that his best bet would be to convince or trick anyone coming through the city to take him with them. He would take up Sion's full name, Sion Severent, and use it to find out the location of Chad, Sion's brother and return the items to him. All he could do now was wait. Lying back onto the bed, he ran over the last few words that Sion had said to him before passing away.

_Something in there's still Human. _

…

_You still have some humanity left in you, treasure it always; It's what separates you from the other infected._

_Never let it go, not for anything._

It would be a few more days before his fateful encounter with Ark the Hunter and the survivors.

–

Oh wow, I FINALLY FINISHED! (said at 2 in the morning...) anyways, That's Sion's story for ya, I hope you enjoyed it. For anyone baffled by the last part, here's an easier translation; Sion (smoker) felt guilty for being a coward and running away from the fight where he could have repayed Sion (Human) for his kindness of treating his burned arm. Since Sion (Human) died in the struggle, Sion (Smoker) couldn't repay the kindness and decided to find Sion's (Human) brother, Chad, and give him the dog tags and the coat as a kind of apology for not helping when he could. Fudge, the explanation is difficult as well! Ah, I fail at these things... I hope you enjoyed it. Ciao!

On an off note, what happened to Sion (human) is literally the same thing that happened to one of us during a co-op game. Shot a car and a Tank for some reason showed up with the horde, the last guy remaining managed to kill the Tank but got killed by the horde that showed up when a passing by Boomer vomited on him. Of course we laughed at his misfortune, but I've had worse happen to me. *Sobs * what happened to me was funny to everyone but me.

*Thinks* OMFG! I can be a beta writer now! YAY! Anyways, here's Sion's profile.

Name: Sion Duncan Severent

Race: Infected, Subclass: Smoker (rare)

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown, Gold when angered

Height: 5'8

Weight: _Sion: Whoa! Why does anyone want to know weight? I do weigh more than Ark though._

Clothing: Military jacket over faded black shirt and brown pants.

Backstory: You just read it.

Main attack: Smoker tongue (About 50-60 feet) and often seen using weapons.


End file.
